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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051142">To Love A God</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDream/pseuds/IndigoDream'>IndigoDream</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Creature Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Himbo Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Nature Magic, Oxenfurt Academy (The Witcher), god jaskier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 22:28:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,470</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27051142</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDream/pseuds/IndigoDream</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt and Jaskier parted on bad terms before the winter, and the guilt of it has been eating Geralt alive. Now is his time for an apology.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>424</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Love A God</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsISpilledTheGay/gifts">WhoopsISpilledTheGay</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I hope you like it, kiddo &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Winter was mild this year, and so Geralt doesn’t feel too bad for Roach when he makes her push through a rainstorm as they near Oxenfurt. The usually beautiful Academy, with tiles of shining red and houses that shine under a sun that does not exist anywhere else in Redania, is now surrounded in a dreary grey light. It doesn’t feel right, but Geralt keeps his own thoughts to himself. It is, after all, still winter. There is no saying what Oxenfurt usually looks like during that period. It’s the first time that Geralt is coming so early after all. </p><p>When they near the gates, Geralt hops off Roach’s back and leads her within the city. It doesn’t rain here, but the air is humid, and there are few people in the streets as they pass through it. Not quite uncommon yet, but the rain, this, it feels like Oxenfurt in winter is a different world from Oxenfurt during the year. Geralt has a goal though, so he pushes through his thoughts and finds his way to the Academy’s stables. </p><p>The boy there knows him and he takes Roach’s reins with a happy whistle, handing her out a sugar cube that she devours in one large bite. </p><p>“He is in the English Building, Lecture Hall 3,” the boy says as Geralt turns around. “His lecture is nearly over.”</p><p>Geralt grunts out a thanks, and sets off, ignoring the heat he can feel on his ears from having been found out so easily. It isn’t like it’s a secret; whenever Geralt comes to Oxenfurt, it is to see Jaskier, no one else. Of course, it’s the first time that it happens so early in the year, but well. He does have quite a few things to settle with his companion, and bridges to build, but he doesn’t know if the other will be willing to meet him in the middle. Geralt had been… Himself, and he hadn’t thought of his words in his anger. </p><p>He finds the lecture hall easily enough, and he wonders if it is because of his unnatural easiness for finding the bard, or simply because he has memorized the layout of the buildings. The hallways are either too large, making it seem like they are in a temple, and that looking at each other is an affront to some god or the other, or too small, making Geralt’s large built a problem in the narrower passages, when a student or professor has to squeeze by to keep on with their way. </p><p>The lecture hall has a small inscription written on the side, on a gold band that is clearly new. On it, Geralt reads <i>Professor Pankratz, Language and Music, Master of the Seven Arts</i> and his blood chills. Jaskier has never accepted the position of Professor. He had always told Geralt that it was too much of a commitment, that being a professor meant being at Oxenfurt year long and would only bring him restlessness and anger. But here, soaking wet from the rain still, heart ready to be given, Geralt realizes fully what he has done. Jaskier has given up on everything he had always held dear because of him. Geralt had ruined his life. </p><p>The door swings open, and he staggers backwards as excited students leave the room, chattering. Some of them stop talking when they see him, their hands coming to grip their friends’ sleeves, and Geralt knows news of his presence will be spread through the Academy by the next hour. </p><p>When he pushes the door open, Jaskier is sitting at his desk, his lute looking forlorn at the foot of it. Geralt barely recognizes his friend in the muted blue and brown he wears. It is too… common, too mundane for Jaskier. It blends in with the outfits of the crowd that just left the lecture hall. It’s wrong. </p><p>“I haven’t forgotten our appointment, Terrence,” Jaskier sighs in an annoyed voice. “However, I told you to wait in my office, so off you go while I finish here.” </p><p>“I would,” Geralt replies, and Jaskier stills, his shoulders tense and his eyes not leaving the paper on which he was scribbling. “But I have no idea where that is.” </p><p>The bard turns around slowly and humphs, his face a carefully crafted disdainful mask. “Of course you don’t. Seven years since you first came to Oxenfurt, and you still have no idea where my office is. What do you want?” </p><p>“I meant to-“ Geralt starts, stops himself. What <i>does</i> he want? </p><p>Jaskier gives him a few seconds, but at his lack of answer, he sighs loudly and gathers his papers, quill and ink and organizes them in his bag, before grabbing his lute. “Well then. If that is all, I have a student waiting for me, and you are in the way.” </p><p>Geralt sidesteps on instinct, and Jaskier passes by him without even glancing at him. </p><p>“Jaskier, please,” Geralt attempts again before the bard pushes the door open. “I just want-“ </p><p>“Want what, Geralt?” Jaskier snaps, angry as he whirls around, his beautiful eyes taking on the color of a storm at sea. “To pretend to be my friend and listen to me when I tag along on your senseless, thrice-accursed, stupidly dangerous contracts and your absurd quests to prove to yourself that you are not a monster that should be hunted? So that, once I have convinced you and I both of this, you toss me aside, like I don’t matter and I am not a person of my own?”</p><p>“No, I-“</p><p>“You what? Let me guess. You are terribly sorry, oh so sorry Jaskier, you should not have left like a thief in the middle of the night after I told you that traveling with you and being your friend was the best thing that had happened to me in years! Or maybe you are sorry, oh so sorry, that when I caught up with you that day you told me to fuck off, that I was only a bother and couldn’t be trusted to handle a sword or anything useful! Is that why you are sorry?” </p><p>His voice has gotten louder with each accusation, until it mixes with the angry thunder that resonates from one of the open windows. He seems larger than life, his Jaskier, a beautiful thing that shakes with anger and sadness, and Geralt feels like he should sink to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Undoubtedly, he should. It isn’t the first time that Geralt has noticed the static electricity of being near Jaskier, the way he seems to overwhelm everything when he is feeling particularly cross. But here, at this very moment, Geralt knows that all those times he had brushed Jaskier off as some idiot bard with no sense of self-preservation, he himself was the fool.</p><p>“Yes,” he whispers finally, his eyes not leaving Jaskier’s. “I am sorry for all of this. I don’t… Your words are true, and I do not know how to counter them. I am sorry. And I… I know I hurt you. I should never have done all those things. But you… you are my friend. I never pretended anything there. Traveling with you… made me feel like for once I was doing something right. I thought that pushing you away meant to protect you, but I was wrong. I’m sorry.” </p><p>Jaskier seems to be taken off guard, his lips parting and his eyes searching into Geralt’s very soul. It’s as if he is searching for trickery, for something that would prove he isn’t being honest, or that Geralt isn’t himself, but he finds nothing there, and tears threaten his angry mask. </p><p>“No,” he says, his voice quivering, “no! You don’t… You don’t get to come here, all soaked and sweet, apologizing, you don’t get to have my forgiveness, after making me suffer for months! You don’t get to do that. It’s unfair. I accepted a professorship, I’m thinking about buying a house, you can’t- You can’t waltz in and expect to be forgiven.” </p><p>“You are right,” Geralt nods, his own sorrow loud in his voice. “I can’t expect this. You have given me too much of yourself, and I have taken recklessly, without even knowing that I was doing it, nor caring. I thought you saw me as just an opportunity for fame and renown, but I know how wrong I was. Your name is on the lips of every person on the whole Continent, yours and not mine. You are the bard who made kings and queens stop in their battle. You are Jaskier, Julian of Lettenhove, a Pankratz who has rejected his title. You are a bard, and I thought lesser of you for it. But I was wrong.” </p><p>Jaskier’s tears are falling, fast paced as they rush down his cheek, and Geralt gently cradles his face, glad to have gotten rid of his gloves. The other man doesn’t move, and Geralt wipes away the tears tenderly, his thumbs caressing the soft skin with reverence. </p><p>“I was wrong, Jaskier. I was so wrong, and I will never apologize enough. I hurt the one that loved me the most, but worst of all, I hurt the one I love the most. For all your ballads of love, for the thousand of times you talked about losing your heart to a maiden or her brother, I never listened, never understood your words truly. You were right. Love is a great ache in my chest, forbidding me from doing anything than beg your forgiveness. If you do not give it to me, then I will leave and never bother you again. You will be free of me, of my words and anger. For beyond everything, I wish for your happiness.” </p><p>Jaskier’s face is so close, his eyes so wide, and when he opens his mouth, there is a low quivering sound that comes out of it at first. It is akin to a willow’s branch whipping in the night, to a wounded wolf’s howl as it seeks its pack. </p><p>“What are you saying, Geralt,” Jaskier whispers. “Don’t play with my heart, not again. If this is some kind of game, I will curse you, I swear it upon all the gods who have existed and who will exist.” </p><p>“Not a game,” Geralt says, his thumb brushing against Jaskier’s delicate lips. They are so plush, so delicate. “I am so sorry. I love you, and I am sorry for everything I have done.” </p><p>He hesitates a bit, thinks about moving backwards and giving Jaskier some space to accept all that he has said, but Jaskier now has a death grip on his cloak. He is trapped, and he can’t help but enjoy this trap. Leaning in, he keeps his eyes on Jaskier’s, and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. </p><p>Jaskier kisses back, and he kisses with ferocity. His kiss has the strength of the ocean crashing against unsuspecting cliffs, of wind breaking apart forests. Geralt can feel all of himself be lost in this kiss, and he adores it. He is small, so small, in Jaskier’s arms. In his grip, he feels like a child holding onto an oak during a storm. </p><p>“You really are sorry?” Jaskier asks when they break apart, and his heart is hammering loud enough that Geralt is sure the whole world can hear it. “You are not saying this just… just to break my heart in half a second, right?” </p><p>He is trembling, and the world trembles with him, and Geralt presses another kiss to his lips. </p><p>“No, I promise.” Geralt says gently, reverently. “It would break me apart to hurt you again. I love you, Jaskier. I love you more than anything, I promise.” </p><p>Jaskier sighs, but this time it is a happy, relaxed sound, and the world rightens slowly, the sun coming to shine in through the windows. </p><p>“This is your doing,” Geralt smiles gently, pressing a tender kiss to Jaskier’s forehead. “Isn’t it?” </p><p>“I thought you knew,” Jaskier stays and presses himself in Geralt’s arms. “I didn’t say anything at first, thought you might try and kill me if you knew. And then… Well. You didn’t say anything, so I assumed you didn’t care? After the wolf incident…” </p><p>“The wolf-“ Geralt stops himself, laughing as he remembers being nearly overwhelmed by bandits only for a pack of wolves to attack the bandits and then lay at Geralt and Jaskier’s feet, demanding to be loved. “I am daft, am I not?” </p><p>“Yes, but you are my daft witcher.” Jaskier smiles and kisses him again. </p><p>They get lost in kissing each other for a few minutes before Geralt draws back. “You have an appointment with a student.” </p><p>Jaskier sighs and pouts. “But I just got you!”</p><p>“And you will have me after your appointment. And I will have something for you afterwards as well.” </p><p>Jaskier looks a bit intrigued at this, but Geralt pushes him to his office, finding the way with him, and then being sent to Jaskier’s quarters. They are homely, and well decorated, and Geralt smiles as he finds papers with half scribbled lyrics. There are a few drawings there too, and Geralt is surprised to find a few of himself. After what he had done to Jaskier, still… </p><p>He dozes off while waiting, and soft lips pressed against his own wake him up, before a weight is plopped into his lap. </p><p>“Wake up, my love.” </p><p>“It’s good to have you in my arms, my world.” Geralt whispers against his lips before opening his eyes. </p><p>“You had a gift, you said,” Jaskier reminds him, and presses his lips to him again. “I want my gift now.” </p><p>Geralt laughs, looking at his lover in the rising moonlight. “Impatient little god of nature.” </p><p>“Be careful who you call little,” Jaskier laughs too, and the world laughs with him. “To some, I am the world.” </p><p>“To me, you definitely are. If you would move off my lap however… Your gift would get here much closer.” </p><p>Jaskier pouts again and then gets up, extending his hand to Geralt. He draws him up and takes advantage of the occasion to steal another kiss. </p><p>“My gift!” </p><p>Geralt chuckles and takes his pack, opening it and bringing out of it a small box, velvet blue. He extends it to Jaskier and smiles. </p><p>“Here, I was hoping you’d accept my apology, but in case…” </p><p>Jaskier takes the velvet box, opening it slowly, and he gasps as he sees its contents. “A medallion… Geralt…” </p><p>“You’re part of my pack,” Geralt says and comes to take the medallion, putting it around Jaskier’s neck. “I want to show it to everyone.” </p><p>The smile Jaskier gives him is brighter than any star, and the kiss that follows is more heated than any sun. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope yall liked it, don't hesitate to leave a comment or kudos, or to come check me out on tumblr (@saltytransidiot) !</p></blockquote></div></div>
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